


Haven

by incredibly_cold



Series: The Hamfam goes to college [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: College AU, Homelessness, Mentioned violence, Modern AU, character injury, implied depression, mild suffering, team dad george washington, team mom martha washington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 02:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6451441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incredibly_cold/pseuds/incredibly_cold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George Washington was the kind of teacher that people liked. He was friendly, and willing to work with his students if they had problems. He genuinely cared about their well-being. Sometimes, that fact came back to bite him, and he ended up with some kid at his house and a sense of responsibility to make sure they were okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Patched up

Professor George Washington liked to think that he was a good teacher. Not just good in the sense that people rarely failed his classes, but because he actually cared about his students. There wasn't a single one of them who he wouldn't go out of his way to help out, not even the ones who liked to disrupt the class. Over the years he dealt with a lot of people. He didn't remember all of them, but eventually he started recognizing similarities in some of them. He developed sort of a knack for being able to tell that kids were in trouble.

Presently there was one young man who really concerned him. He wasn't quite as obvious as some, but it was pretty clear that he was depressed, and doing his best to hide it. When his friends were around, he was loud and energetic and cheerful, but the couple of times they were gone, it was like he was dead. That was the first thing that tipped him off. He also noticed the frequent limping and wincing and general delicacy in his movement that told him that he was injured, if not visibly. John Laurens was a student in desperate need of help, but it was hard to know how to give it to him. People like him usually didn't like it when others were aware that they weren't completely normal and healthy. As much as he'd like to, he knew that pulling him aside after class and talking to him would probably only make things worse. He also knew that John was one of the rich kids, so using an excuse like supporting the poor financially struggling student wasn't going to work either.

He talked to his wife, Martha, about the whole thing, but she didn't have any ideas either. She said that he should wait until an opportunity presented itself, which was the same thing that he had been thinking. He just hoped that the opportunity would come before something serious happened to him. He didn't want to watch another young person's life being torn apart while he stood by. He'd sworn to himself a long time ago that he wouldn't knowingly let that happen.

It was mid-January when he finally had a chance to do anything without overstepping his bounds. He was walking across campus on the way to his car when he saw him. Laurens was sitting on the steps of the science building, hunched over into a ball. Even in the wind and snow, he was wearing a flimsy jacket. Surprisingly though, he wasn't shivering.

George rounded the corner of the steps silently, and the younger man didn't turn around, either because he was unaware of his presence or because he didn't care that someone else was there. "Are you okay, John?" He asked tentatively. He didn't want too startle him, but this was definitely worthy of concern. When he'd checked his watch before leaving his office it had been one in the morning. The campus should have been empty, and it was, aside from the two of them. Only George had a good reason to be there so late though.

There was a sluggish reaction from the huddled form of his student. "Professor Washington, why are you here so late?" He sat up a little, but he didn't actually look around at him. George also noticed that his speech was a little off. Not like he was drunk, and he couldn't actually come up with what was wrong with it, but it was something.

"I was grading papers. You still haven't answered my question though, son. Are you okay? You shouldn't be out here so late, especially without a coat." The time had come for him to be openly concerned, and he was going to take advantage of it. He was willing to ease into it though.

John took a minute to answer him, clearly because he was debating on what the right answer was. George also suspected that he was trying to figure out how little he could get away with explaining, but that was irrelevant. He would find a way to get answers, even if it meant bringing him home for Martha to interrogate. She did have a way of prying information out of people while still being nice and caring. "I'll be okay. The cold feels kind of nice."

That was about what he'd been expecting. "Well it won't feel so nice when you've gotten sick. Come with me, we can get you some food to warm you up." He intentionally worded it as a suggestion, but really he was going to do it regardless. He wanted to do something for this kid. Probably he'd take him someplace like Denny's. That was about the only thing open this late.

"No, I don't need anything like that. I'll just head home." John protested quickly. He tried to jump to his feet, but he stumbled and let out a grunt of pain.

"John!" Without thinking, Washington rushed forward to grab him so that he didn't fall down the three steps to the ground. Not that three steps was a long way, but it looked like he was already hurt. A fall, even a little one, wouldn't be good for him.

His student took only a moment to get back to his feet and step away, like he'd been burned. Of course touching him was too much, and he normally wouldn't have done it, but he was falling. "I'm sorry sir, I guess I'm a little off balance. I've been sitting for a while and I'm kind of cold."He stammered quickly. He made an effort to hide his face, but now that George was directly in front of him, it was impossible.

It wasn't bright by any means, but the light posts that lit the sidewalks between the buildings were enough. John was a mess. Someone had beaten him up. His right eye was purple, and nearly swollen shut. Whoever had punched him must have been wearing a ring too, because there was a shallow gash on his cheek, as well as another cut on the right side of his lip. Both were bleeding a little, but neither as much as his nose. The whole thing must have been recent, judging by the fact that the blood was still shiny and wet. George felt himself react with surprise and horror, while the other man stared fixedly at the ground.

"What happened to you?" His voice was a little too worried, so he tried to balance it out by adding in a calmer tone, "Who did this?" though he wasn't sure that it was effective.

As bloody and battered as he was, John still managed to look like a child who was being scolded as he shrugged. "It doesn't matter, I started it. I got in a fight and I lost, it happens sometimes." He tried to mask his wince as he walked down the three steps and stepped carefully around his teacher, still without looking up. It was like he thought he could back out of the whole situation if he could only avoid eye contact. He was wrong, of course, there was no way Washington was going to let him run off to who knows where and possibly get hurt even worse.

As much as he'd have liked to know who was responsible for hurting one of his favorite students, he was willing to accept that he wouldn't get an answer. John did seem like the kind of person who would be morally opposed to disclosing names of other people if it meant that they might get in trouble. "Alright, but let me get you cleaned up."

"I really don't need-"

"It doesn't matter. I'm talking you home, cleaning you up, and giving you some warm food. You look terrible and I'm not going to sit around while you're out here and injured. It's a personal policy, my wife and I like to take care of students who are having a tough time." At the indignant glare he received for that, he sighed. "Getting beat up counts as a rough time. Plus, Martha is a nurse and I'd like her to take a look at those cuts. Just to be sure that nothing gets infected." George didn't wait for more protesting, he just put a hand on the man's back between his shoulder blades and steered him toward the parking lot.

He went where he was guided, but not without a panicked look on his face. "Mr. Washington, sir, this is ridiculous! It's the middle of the night, you can't take me home and make your wife give me first aid!" He spluttered. It was actually a decent point for anyone who didn't know Martha. "Besides, how will I get back home? I don't know the way and I don't want you to have to come back here at some ungodly hour just to get me back. In fact, I won't let you. It's way too late for this."

"Please son, you can sleep in the guest room. I've had lots of students stay the night over the years, this is a perfectly good reason. Martha won't mind at all. Actually she'd love to take care of you. We never had kids, but by god she'll treat anyone who comes over like her own child. She'll probably insist that you stay over even if I don't suggest it." He pointed out. It was true, his wife loved to temporarily adopt his students, and John would probably get even more of her love and attention just because she'd heard so much about him and started to care about him vicariously.

John was too polite, or perhaps too nervous, to just run off. He could have done it, since the only thing steering him was the hand on his back. Despite all his words of protest, he went to the car as he was guided, and once there he didn't say anything at all. He seemed very upset that he'd gotten himself into this predicament. They drove in uncomfortable silence for several minutes until they pulled into George's driveway and got out of the car.

He gave John a quick rundown while he climbed the porch steps and unlocked the door. "I'm going to get Martha first so she can clean you up, and then I'll make you something to eat while she takes care of you." As an afterthought he added, "Make yourself at home, just don't run off. If you do then we'll have to go looking for you, and that we might actually mind." He didn't really know him all that well beyond observing him in class and reading his papers, but he did seem a little flighty. Since he obviously wasn't going to try and fight his way out of this one, running away to completely avoid the situation seemed quite likely from him. Having someone like him alone and injured in the cold with a flimsy jacket far away from his dorm sounded terrible.

He got a small nod in response, and ran up the stairs to get his wife.

"George, what time is it? I told you that you didn't need to wake me up if I was in bed already when you got here." Martha whined from under a mound of covers when he shook her awake. It was funny how even after so many years of marriage she still managed to make him notice how cute she was. He'd heard that stuff like that wore off, but so far that wasn't the case for them.

He stopped her from rolling away from him and pulled off her blanket. "Honey, I'm sorry it's an emergency. You remember that John Laurens kid I've told you about? He's downstairs and I need you to take a look at him."

That snapped her out of it. Before he could even get off the bed she was jumping to her feet and pulling a robe on over her nightgown. He left her to gather up whatever medical supplies she needed and went back downstairs. "She's on her way down now, do you want some tea to start out?" George took note of he fact that John was perched on the very edge of the couch like he was ready to run. He didn't acknowledge that part though. It was unnecessary and would probably only make him more uneasy to be called out. The younger man gave a little shrug and he stepped into the kitchen to make him a mug.

Even though the stairs were out of his line of sight, he could tell when Martha entered the room. "Oh honey, what happened?!" Her concerned voice cut through the silence and startled both of them. He could see John shrinking back into himself as she approached him and fought the urge to tell her to treat him like she would a frightened animal. The time to do that would have been while they were alone and could have said it without offending their guest. Luckily, Martha was a smart woman, and she reigned in her maternal instincts a little so that she wouldn't scare him. "Did someone attack you, or did you start it?" She asked more calmly, while she soaked a cotton ball in alcohol. He appreciated that she could switch to a more professional tone when the situation called for it.

"I started it," Laurens admitted, so quietly that George almost couldn't hear him. "I usually start it."

Again, George was not completely taken by surprise. After seeing how much being beaten to a pulp didn't affect him, he had assumed that it wasn't unusual for him. It would explain why he always moved around like he was hurt. It still wasn't a good thing to hear though. He stood over the steaming mug of tea and watched his wife take care of John.

To her credit, she didn't react to the news. "You should know better than to pick a fight with someone wearing a ring, especially one with prongs. This is a nasty cut." Martha dabbed at the long cut on his cheek with her cotton ball, watching his face the whole time for any signs of pain. She was a very considerate nurse in that way. "I don't think you'll need stitches, but you should be more careful."

"Well, I didn't think he'd go for my face." John said, as though that was enough to explain everything.

George thought that was as good a time as any to bring out the tea, so he brought it out and set it down on the table beside the first aid kit. "We have some soup and cornbread, if that's all right. If not then I'm sure we can find something else in the cupboards." He seriously doubted that they actually could find anything else, but he also didn't think that John would take him up on that part. He was a very polite boy, with all the manners that a rich southerner like him should have. Making his hosts go out of their way to get him something to eat just wasn't his style.

"I really don't need -" There was a brief pause in which he withered under the stern look that George gave him, which of course made him feel terribly guilty. "Soup and cornbread sound wonderful, sir."

They went about fixing him up and getting him fed until finally, around three in the morning, they were all in bed. John was tucked away in the guest room with a bandage on his cheek, George and his wife were in bed and able to talk to each other without being listened to. Even though both of them were exhausted, they were eager to discuss what had went on since he'd gotten home. When he wasn't having to explain himself to one of his teachers, he'd been quite a bit more relaxed and forthcoming. Even without actually listening in, he could tell that much. If that was better for him, Washington was willing to wait for his wife to tell him everything afterward.

"George, that boy is in trouble." Martha murmured. It was impossible to see her face in the darkness of their bedroom, but he'd been with her long enough to know what she sounded like when she was worried. He could imagine her face too, brows knit together in concern. "He didn't even flinch when I sterilized his cuts. I've sterilized a lot of cuts on a lot of people, and the only ones who don't react are used to being in pain all the time."

So she was thinking in the same line that he was. "I'm starting to think this is pretty common for him and this was just the first time there was anything visible on his face. I mean, he'd be a little more shaken up if he hadn't fought someone before, right?"

She was silent for a minute, deliberating. It had been an actual question. She was the one who dealt with injured people, he dealt with young people. They both had their own area of expertise. "Darling, we need a good reason for him to come over here every now and again so we can keep an eye on him. He told me he doesn't have a roommate. Now clearly he has some mental health issues, they're glaringly obvious. I think he apologized to me about thirty times while I was fixing him. It's dangerous to leave someone like that alone. There's too much opportunity for him to hurt himself."

It was a valid point, something he'd been worrying over for weeks now. This did give him a chance to say his wife wanted him over more often. He had already pointed out that Martha wanted kids and didn't have any, and John was too polite and willing to go out of his way for the sake of others to turn him down if he gave that as a reason to have him over. He felt bad about using that against a kid to make him come over, but if it kept him safe, he was willing to do it. "I think I know the way to take care of it."

* * *

He brought it up when he was driving John home the next day. There was no graceful way into it, so he just jumped in. "My wife wants to have you over more often." He started. That jolted him from the silent spacey state he'd been in. "It's been a while since she fake adopted one of my students, and she likes you. Now I know she's a sweet lady, but I wouldn't put it past her to forcibly drag you to dinner. I know it's a little unusual, but she does insist."

There was a long silence, and even though John didn't protest, his fear was palpable.

"You can bring your friends from class if it would make you feel more comfortable. That Hercules Mulligan and the Lafayette guy with about twenty names." George added lightly.

It did get him a smile. "Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier? You can call him Marie, he likes that one best. He likes Gilbert too, but other people laugh at that one." His smile faded into a weary sigh and he nodded. "I guess I can do that."


	2. Shelter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been about a month since John spent the night. He was a sweet kid, even if he was nervous all the time. He'd come over once or twice a week with his friends. All his injuries were healed except for the cut on his cheek, which Martha thought might end up scarring. Things were calm, and they'd fallen back into a rhythm, which naturally meant it was time for something to change.

As a devoted teacher, it wasn't terribly unusual for professor Washington to stay after school to finish grading. He would hole himself up in his office until he was done or he was too tired to keep going, whichever came first. Martha didn't like it exactly, but she understood that it was easier to focus when he was in there with no distractions. He was on his way home nearly a month after the whole John incident, when he stumbled across Alexander Hamilton.

Alex was a thin, studious boy who was always in the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. His physical health was somewhat of a concern, but he seemed generally happy and okay. Just a typical workaholic type of student. He was the kind of kid who was always first to jump into a debate, and always raised his hand. He'd go over the word requirement on every essay without fail. The person who asked for the maximum word count instead of the minimum. He'd never really bothered to spend his time worrying about him before. He just assumed that Alex had his shit together, or at least that he'd get it together pretty soon after he graduated. Assuming things about him never turned out well for anyone, and George was reminded of that fact yet again.

As soon as he stepped outside to go to his car and head home, he saw him. He didn't know who it was yet, or even that it was one of his students. He just saw the hunched figure curled up in the doorway to shelter from the wind. There were multiple jackets draped over their legs and shoulders to keep out the cold, but it didn't stop them from shivering. Washington wasn't sure if they went to the school or if they'd just decided that it was a good place to stay for the night, but he knew he couldn't leave them. It was too cold to be sleeping outside. The least he could do was give them a place to stay for the night. He tapped the huddled figure gently on the shoulder to wake them up.

There was a pathetic whine, definitely from a man, and a familiar face poked out from the pile of jackets. He blinked blearily at him and said nothing, clearly because it took him a minute to start functioning enough to recognize who was waking up. "Professor? I didn't expect you to be here so late." In his sleepy state, his Caribbean accent was more audible.

"Alex, why are you sleeping out here?" George tried to keep himself from sounding exasperated, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he was waiting to ask a teacher about an assignment. It seemed like exactly the kind of thing that he would do.

There was a moment of silence before Alex answered him, very uneasily. "The library closed and there's a new janitor." He didn't look George in the eye as he pulled his jackets tighter around himself. "So I got kicked out for the night."

He had to take a deep breath to steady himself. That... He had not been expecting that. "Alex, do you not have someplace else you can stay? A dorm?" He thought they were supposed to cover this stuff when people registered to go to school here. They were supposed to make sure everyone had a place to live and a mailing address and all that. Well, maybe they had and Alexander had found a way around it, he was certainly smart enough. He couldn't think of why someone would do that though. What kind of person would choose to be homeless this far north? It snowed, and had generally unpleasant weather.

"I have the library." He said, somewhat defensively. It wasn't like it was easy to make a case for not having a place to live when he was sleeping out in the freezing cold. Not that he was one to back down from a challenge, he made a conscious effort to make himself look as relaxed as possible. That is, if tensing up to the point that he was no longer shivering could be considered relaxed.

He shook his head and reached out a hand. "Then you can stay at my house tonight. It's too cold to stay outside, you'll lose a few fingers and toes if you're not more careful."

He'd been worried Alex would be too proud to accept charity, or that he'd at least try to refuse because he didn't want to hang out with a teacher. Thankfully, Alex was willing to accept it right away. He took a second to get up and stuff his jackets into his book bag, but once he was done he looked at George. "Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it." It was probably one of the most concise things he'd ever said.

George led the way to his car, all the while expecting Alex to jump into some kind of rant about anything really, but he didn't. He was uncharacteristically silent. Probably he was just cold and tired. He'd start talking again once he'd had a chance to warm up. Still, it was kind of unsettling to be around him when he was so silent. He let it go on like that until they got in the car, then he decided it was his turn to try and start conversation. "So don't you have a place to live? I thought everyone needed an address on file to go here."

"Technically yes." A technicality was a perfect way to start a long rant. "I'm here on scholarship. It doesn't cover housing or food, so I have to find that part for myself. Except housing is fucking expensive, and I don't have money. I pay for food, clothes, the laundromat, a phone, and a laptop so I can do all my work, and that's about all I have the money for. If I do have anything left, I save it for emergencies." It was clear that he wasn't just stating facts, he was making points for an argument. "Oh, and a membership at that cheap gym. Not that I really use it, but it gives me a place to shower and a secure place to put my stuff. Anyway, I know I shouldn't complain because I'm not paying for all of it, but this is ridiculous. They need to have free housing for everyone who can't afford it. Students shouldn't have to get in with the Janitors to have a place to sleep."

"I'm not going to disagree with you, because I do think college is very overpriced, but I think that's what student loans are for." He interjected while Alex took a second to breathe. It was the only way to get a point in when he was talking.

Student loans were another thing that he hated, unsurprisingly. "Fine, they shouldn't have to get in with the janitors _or_ get into huge amounts of debt. It shouldn't have to be a choice. A person should be able to say 'I want to get a good education' and do it without signing away the rest of their lives to paying off loans. This is America, isn't the whole point supposed to be that you can achieve anything here? Isn't that 'the American dream' or whatever? I came here because I had a scholarship, and this is where some of the best schools are. The people in my town helped me get a plane ticket so that I could get here. I went through the whole process of being able to stay here legally until I'm done with school, and I'm working on my citizenship. I've done so much to get to this point so that I can have a better life, and now I'm having to rely on people being nice to not freeze to death out there. Do you realize how fucked up that is? What if there weren't any nice people around? What if the janitors hated me or you hadn't seen me? Would all of this have been for nothing? Would my dream of a better life end in my frozen corpse sitting in some doorway on campus? It should be the responsibility of the government to make sure it's citizens are able to have a good life. And I know I'm not technically a citizen, but I am doing something. As long as a person has a job or is going to school, they should be able to get the same benefits."

It was amazing how long he could go on without pausing. Also how he could make decent points when he was still shivering uncontrollably and trying to stop his nose from dripping all over in the car. They went on like that, Alex talking and George listening in silence, until they got to his house. George had spaced off a while back and started thinking of solutions so that Alex could actually live somewhere. He thought he might have found one, but he'd have to do a little more asking before he gave any details. "So if someone would let you room with them for free, would you accept it? No rent or anything, you'd just stay in their dorm. Maybe keep helping with food and all of your own stuff, but you wouldn't need to pay for the gym, and you'd have a real bed."

"Well obviously I'd accept it, but good luck finding someone who'd be interested. People don't like letting people live with them for free, and you might have noticed that I talk a lot. People don't like that. Apparently they want to have conversations without arguing or something? I'm not roommate material." He laughed and tossed his hair over his shoulder. "But yes, in an ideal world, I would love free housing."

He did have a decent point. Not that it was his place to judge whether or not a student would get along with other people, but he wasn't stupid. He could recognize that Alex was far from amiable. If he had to choose one person who was most likely to fight with any given person, it would be him. Given that fact, he suddenly felt much less confident in his idea. "Look, I can't promise much, but I'm not letting you sleep in the cold. It's kind of against the rules, but I could give you a key to my office. That way you have someplace to go if you need it." He got out of the car and shut the door behind him, trusting that his guest would follow.

And follow he did, with plenty of confused spluttering. "Wait, can you even do that legally? I mean, not that I object or anything but is that allowed? What would happen if you got caught?" He was still talking as they entered the house, maybe loudly enough to wake Martha. She wouldn't like that. Or maybe she would, she might find him entertaining. He was loud and opinionated and he spoke without thinking most of the time, and there was some humor in that. Not George's sense of humor exactly, but it was hers.

"If I get caught then I'll argue that it's the school's fault for not giving you enough scholarship money to live in the dorms. I've been teaching there for years, and I'm friends with everyone on the staff, including the really important people. They aren't going to fire me for giving you a place to sleep. If I was doing something against the rules that was also morally wrong, that would be one thing, but in this case I would be in the right. It won't be an issue."

His saying so didn't seem to be wholly convincing, but Alexander nodded. He was smart enough no to argue himself out of a good deal. "Thank you Mr. Washington." A brief pause. "You know, I've heard a lot of people say that you're their favorite teacher, and that you're really nice. I guess they're right. Most people wouldn't do anything like this because they didn't have to, but you actually care. Maybe I'm just getting sentimental because I'm cold and tired, but it really means a lot. So thank you. If there's anything I can do, like a chore list or something, I'd be happy to take care of it."

"Thank you Alex. The only thing I want you to do is get some sleep. I'll show you the guest room." Then as an afterthought, he added, "Oh, and it would be best if we could let my wife sleep. She won't mind you being here, but if she wakes up she'll want to serve you a four course meal and buy you a house, and none of us will go to bed any time soon." He would tell her in the morning and she could get out all her motherly nurturing then.

He kept his voice politely quiet, and his questions short while George showed him around. He was much more relaxed and friendly when he was tired and felt like he had to be gracious. It was a welcome change this late at night. His usual behavior was a little bit difficult to handle even when he wasn't tired. There weren't any problems, and they both finally went to bed. Martha didn't wake up.

* * *

The first thing he did in the morning after he told his wife that someone had stayed the night at their house, was send an email to John asking him if he'd be able to meet at his office for lunch. He would have suggested he come over and all eat together, but it was vital that Alex didn't hear, and Martha insisted that he should stay over and do whatever school work he needed to take care of. George thought it was a good idea. If he'd been spending most of his time in the library, he was probably sick of it. A change of scenery and some pampering from Martha wouldn't hurt him. Within an hour he had a response saying that his other student was free and able to do that. It was hard to judge from an email, but he was sure that it was a confusing request. He would explain in person.

When George arrived at around noon, John was already waiting. He sat cross legged on the ground in the same spot where Hamilton had been sleeping just last night. "I'm sorry, I thought I'd get here before you. I didn't mean to make you wait."

John shrugged, with all the false relaxation he could muster, which really wasn't much. It didn't look casual when his shoulders moved up and down so rigidly and he continued making eye contact without blinking. "I used to live out in the country and I always took a half an hour to get anywhere, so I got into the habit of leaving the house half an hour before I need to be anyplace. I've gotten used to waiting around for people to arrive on time. You're actually still ten minutes early."

Not exactly comforting, but it did make him feel a little better to know that it was the standard. "I know I didn't give you very much information, but you aren't in trouble or anything. Actually it's just a question, and I thought it would be better to ask you in person than over email. I was wondering if you were still living alone." He unlocked the front door of the building as he talked. In a way Washington was kind of wanting this to be a quick thing, and if it went well they could go straight back to his house and eat there. In that line, he stopped and pulled the key out of the lock and just looked at the other man.

Laurens had been starting to stand, but once the key was out and the door was still locked, he froze in the middle of the action. He stayed still in that awkward crouch for a solid five second before he just stood up all the way. "Yeah, I live alone. I used to have a roommate, but he graduated last year. Why?"

"I was wondering how you'd feel about having a new roommate. Is it a personal choice not to have a new one, or have you not been looking and it just worked out that way?" He couldn't bring himself to ask outright if he'd be okay with housing someone free of charge. Sure, the other man was plenty wealthy enough to do it, but it might be imposing. As much as he'd like this to work out, the idea of forcing John into anything made him wary. He was too unpredictable, and he always seemed close to shattering.

Another tense shrug. "I don't know, I hadn't thought about it much. I wouldn't be opposed it I guess. It's just been a convenience thing, I don't feel like asking around to find someone who wants to live with me." He spoke slowly and carefully, like he was afraid of a misstep. He probably was.

"And if there was someone who couldn't pay but wanted to stay with you, how would you feel about that?" There was no way to edge around it any further, so he just said it and hoped for the best.

There was a short pause. "I mean, it's my dad's money. He's already paying for the dorm, so I don't think it would be a problem with him. It might even be good, since it would look charitable. I wouldn't mind it either, as long as they weren't completely terrible." He added the last part as if it were a minor detail, which irked George a little. In a month of getting to know him, he'd learned that John cared very little about himself, and very much about what his father thought about everything. That would bother him no matter what, but it did a little more than normal because he'd heard absolutely nothing good about the man. He sounded like a prick. "Why, what's going on?"

"There's this freshman boy, Alexander Hamilton. Apparently he's homeless, and he's been sleeping wherever he can find. Usually in the library, but last night he was out here. I took him back to my house so he wouldn't freeze, and he could stay there indefinitely, but he might feel a little more comfortable with another student. I wanted to start asking around, and you were a good place to start, since you don't currently have a roommate." He explained. "He's a really good kid, and we could go back to my house and eat lunch all together so you could get to know him a little better before you commit in either direction."

"He was outside last night?" He asked it so quietly that Washington wasn't even sure he was supposed to answer. "He can live with me. I don't need to meet him before I commit. No one should be sleeping outside when it's this cold out."


End file.
